Loss
by NutsAboutComics
Summary: A story detailing Emma and her reminiscence upon her failed marriage with Scott. Non-canon. Ratings and reviews are much appreciated as always.


Never underestimate the devotion of a woman. The truth in that statement alone cannot be gauged by means by which we are accustomed to in mathematics, basic or otherwise. Devotion was something incalculable, a driving energy that urges a member of the fairer sex to be forever entwined with their other half. That half that makes her a whole in the divine unity that is marriage. A union which in both parties submit themselves entirely, physically and spiritually into each other. A binding of two individuals in which their vows are expected to be everlasting, timeless and forever sacred, to never be shattered for any reason at all.

Yet in modern day society, such spiritualism that has been passed upon millenniums, unscratched through the sands of time and preserved in such a manner that it was expected to remain as it is for all eternity, was tainted by the temptations of the proverbial 7 sins that have echoed down the hallways of religious history. Clerics, monks, religious scholars and the likes have often blamed to the dystopian future of a marriage to be attributed by the 7 Sins. The Capital Vices or Cardinal Sins as they were known among most, if not all of Christendom.

_Wrath_

_Greed_

_Sloth_

_Pride_

_Lust_

_Envy_

_Gluttony _

Each one a growing stem of a bad seedling, the cause for the failure of this sacred unity between man and woman. But then again, back in the bygone days, that principle applies itself upon the society with ease, where the minds of rural humans were less cluttered, simple and predictable. But upon the infrastructure of modern day man, such methods proved to be far too general, broad and even unreasonable when it comes to resolving and coming to a conclusion upon the puzzle that is a failed marriage. Not everyone has their reasons stemmed within that of a sin.

Marriages conducted in our times are as much of a fanciful affair as they are a callously valued one. Lavishly celebrated in exotic locales with the best of wine and dine, they were nothing like the simple ceremonies held in the conclaves of a religious institution, presided over the watchful eyes of enlightened souls of the years past. As were the simplicity, the very essence of a ceremony held in accordance to a marriage has been erased entirely, replaced with the need to outdo one another in a make-believe contest, where the prize at the end of the day was to be bathed in the glory of knowing that your beachside soiree was the most expensive of all weddings in the family. Glorious, isn't it?

And when it all boils down, we'd normally assume for people with the likes of Ivanka Trump, Kim Kardashian, Anne Hathaway and countless other valued socialites and moguls to have the weddings of their dreams. Nobody would have taken for one specific individual to have lost all of what she had in the course of attempting to wed.

Emma Frost sat languidly upon the deck chair that was laid out upon her suite's balcony, a lone platform hanging precariously from the side of Utopia's walled fortress that displayed a panoramic view of photogenic quality to the viewer at all times of the day. The surface of the sea was calm that evening, waves cresting over the rocky shores of San Francisco bay where they broke into a cacophony of whitish froth and a tangy drizzle of seawater. Blue hued orbs traversing over to the edge of the horizon where the sea seemingly ended, leaving the viewer to assume for what is to be seen behind it, the blonde took a small breath into her lungs. She could still faintly recalled how Scott proposed to her all that many years ago. It wasn't at all what she had in mind for a proposal, but it nevertheless melted a portion of her iced heart.

His face was sincere, the handsome, strong chiseled features a little softer than they were regularly as he knelt on a knee, ring in his palm with a wisp of a smile gracing upon his dull coloured lips. The visor which he donned upon his eyes sparkled under the rays of the Mediterranean sun, as did the diamond encrusted piece of jewelry he held up for her to view.

'Would you marry me?'

She would never once let those words fall onto deaf ears for as long as she lived. And how could Emma decline to such an offer? They were to be married, forever sealed between one another and never to be parted. How naive of her to think of such, she chided herself. Who was she to assume that Scott truly had feelings for her? Jean was the one he loved, the woman he cherished for all his life, the one being that would be remotely replaceable by herself. It wasn't a commitment that he was seeking from her, nor was it love, acceptance and above all a family. All Scott Summers wanted from her was refuge. A person whom he can take solace within, cowering away from the gnawing fear that was the death of Jean. But she didn't matter. She had lost all of what she held dear to her frozen heart. Her childhood, her family, her first love. Everything. All of what jewels and pearls in the world would do little to replace what she had once taken away from her. And Scott's affection towards the woman seemed to be the one thing that filled the void, the empty, baseless chasm that gaped in her soul. But in the end, he too was snatched away from her grasp by the likes of Jean it isn't always that of sin that breaks a happy marriage apart after all.

What had she truly gained in the 29 years of her existence? Nothing of sentimental value, that is for certain. For a woman who had everything, Emma was poor, poverty stricken in terms of everything that made up of a person's past. She had nothing she could think upon to bring a smile upon her face. Nothing which she could remember the time by. All that was found within her mind was that of hate, anger and depression. The constant reality of it all gnawed upon her soul like a frenzied animal would upon a chunk of flesh, ripping, shredding her to bits. She had /nothing/. /No one/, So what is it that she had strove to gain past the many years? Claiming that 'every portion of her is to be used as a weapon'. A weapon against /what/ exactly? She didn't know. She couldn't answer.

Because she was at a loss, forever drowned in its silence.


End file.
